It is thought that males, even younger males, cannot be victims of rape, nor even that they are vulnerable. In some societies, it is considered shameful and unmanly if a male child cries, because the male stereotype depicts males as being able to protect themselves, which may not always be the case.
Chris Fridae, punctures this silence...
Of our many mayhems
Our early nights were unfavourite:
Those nights knew more darkness
It's gloom made us today's lost boys
By dawn,
We couldn't sketch stars
We feasted on tales of the burn fires in the cosmo
And at dusk we moaned
in our little boyish voices
But who dares say
Edo maidens wear no shame
They made tools of our pillars
Foes. Hoes. Holes.
Our tongues met Lot's wife
Too young for pleasure merely baked yet burnt
For true boys chase fire flies
They say fire hides in its butt
They say it glows better with night's darkness
But who dares say
What we found in the butt of fire flies that chased us
Of our many mayhems
Our early night brought the newest darkness
For we were too petite to know strength
Our pupils saw too much
Another peg on our unriped cheek
"What you don't know can't kill you"
But ignorance ran riot on what would someday birth our clan;
Ignorance did kill a part of us:
Lulling us like ritual goat
And today..
Today we thrust no one.
"What you don't know can't kill you "
Chris Fridae is vibrant member of Literary Friday and a member of the Local organizing Committee, Festival Poetry Calabar.
He enjoys Spoken word Poetry accompanied with a guitar.
Chris is a diamond in disguise.
You can follow him on Facebook @Chris Fridae
Chris Fridae, punctures this silence...
Of our many mayhems
Our early nights were unfavourite:
Those nights knew more darkness
It's gloom made us today's lost boys
By dawn,
We couldn't sketch stars
We feasted on tales of the burn fires in the cosmo
And at dusk we moaned
in our little boyish voices
But who dares say
Edo maidens wear no shame
They made tools of our pillars
Foes. Hoes. Holes.
Our tongues met Lot's wife
Too young for pleasure merely baked yet burnt
For true boys chase fire flies
They say fire hides in its butt
They say it glows better with night's darkness
But who dares say
What we found in the butt of fire flies that chased us
Of our many mayhems
Our early night brought the newest darkness
For we were too petite to know strength
Our pupils saw too much
Another peg on our unriped cheek
"What you don't know can't kill you"
But ignorance ran riot on what would someday birth our clan;
Ignorance did kill a part of us:
Lulling us like ritual goat
And today..
Today we thrust no one.
"What you don't know can't kill you "
He enjoys Spoken word Poetry accompanied with a guitar.
Chris is a diamond in disguise.
You can follow him on Facebook @Chris Fridae
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